


Voyeurism - Vision/Reader

by BridgeToTheSky



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BUT I love vision SOO much I had to write for him, Dreams, Dreamsharing, F/M, I'm trash I know you don't have to tell me, I'm undisciplined trash I should be finishing other things I know, Implied Sexual Content, Love, Other, Psychic Bond, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BridgeToTheSky/pseuds/BridgeToTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly all humans forgot almost ninety percent of their dreams, anyway, and Vision knew this, which made it easier on his newborn conscience to continue with his watching. </p><p>Your mind, at night, was a vast, deep, dark thing. And he was determined to know every crevice of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Scariest Verb of All

Vision would watch you in your dreams. 

 

Unknowing to you, due to your walking up without the slightest clue of what had transpired in your unconsciousness. Nearly all humans forgot almost ninety percent of their dreams, anyway, and Vision knew this, which made it easier on his newborn conscience to continue with his watching. 

 

Your mind, at night, was a vast, deep, dark thing. And he was determined to know every crevice of it.

 

For some reason, your mind were like pages of an open book; unconcealed and making no effort to be so. And you didn’t even know. 

 

***

 

You watched as he levitated in the air. So apart from everyone and everything that existed around him. New. Different. Not of flesh but _almost._

 

Just enough, in your opinion. 

 

But it hadn’t always been that way; your first feeling toward the creation had been apprehension; fear. What if he was like Ultron, and was simply bidding his time? Waiting? Watching? _Learning,_ which was the scariest verb of all.

 

His cape rippled around him, his eyes to the ceiling, made of glass and allowing his artificial body to be bathed in the evening sunlight. 

 

He had no clue of your eyes on him, which is why he continued on, enjoying his weightlessness (he didn’t like to levitate around others; he remained on foot around all the others).

 

Somehow — and you didn’t know how — you had come to the conclusion that he was nothing like Ultron. Vision was not a trapped being, a victim to his hatred of mankind and his doomed objective of destroying it. Destroying everything. 

 

He _was_ on the side of life, after all. Everything living he hoped to protect.

 

And you didn’t know how it came to be that you felt this way. So … _safe,_ around him. 

 

You really didn’t.

 

***

 

He came to your through a curtain of mist, and his arms embraced you, pulling you close to him.

 

Your hands felt the plates between the elasticity of his suit. The gem placed at the tip of his forehead shining bright.

 

With you, Vision experienced, for the first time, real … _maturity._

 

The feelings you felt were now also his as well — Soft. Silky, almost. Purring inside of him. An ache — the sweetest ache ever none in the world(s) — that soon became a scorching one, hot and flared.

 

It was what humans called lust, he figured.

 

Lust mixed with comfort. Lust and safety. Sweetness and intimacy. All laced together to become one, and he let it devour him as much as it did you. 

 

Love, perhaps?

 

With every aching moment, the elastic came away, and the plates dropped elsewhere, revealing flushed human skin to mingle with yours. Beads of sweat gathering against the lanes of his back. 

 

And, surprising to even him, a moan escaped. The pleasure received forced it from him.

 

All so new, all so _wonderful …_

 

When it was over, Vision returned to himself, retreating from your fiery dream.

 

And it felt like pulling back into a cold freezer; unwelcoming and unnatural.

 

***

 

This dream you did remember.

 

Oh, _god._


	2. What We Can't Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden warmth came over you. “Vision,” you said softly, ruefully, “you’re not human —” 
> 
> “I am aware, but,” Vision said, and, at the loosening of your arms, he began to come closer. The light from the window caught on to him again, and you felt deja vu of just the other day, watching him floating above, light casting on him, making him look so surreal, angelic, almost, “you know I can be just as efficient as any human."

“You are avoiding me.”

 

This observation was made behind your back, and you closed your eyes to it, defeated. You felt Vision drawing nearer as he levitated toward you.

 

You slowly made your around to meet him, and found he was only inches away.

 

“Miss (Y/N),” said Vision softly.

 

He landed before you soundlessly, and you only watched.

 

“I am,” Vision began, clearly at a loss, “sorry if I caused offense. Very sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I should have made different choices.”

 

“No,” You said. “You clearly sensed something about me that was … willing. I wasn’t made uncomfortable by you, just me. I didn’t know that I felt like … _that._ ”

 

Vision seemed to understand, the pale blue of his eyes almost seemed green in the dim light of the office.

 

“I see,” he said. “So what you’re saying is that you were simply jarred by your own subconscious feelings?”

 

 _Not very subconscious now,_ you thought. In reality, you nodded, hoping very much that Vision had not heard that and had tuned out of your head long ago. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

 

“I don’t believe you should feel any self-shame,” Vision said, approaching you. You crossed your arms to him, and something about your sudden body language caused him to halt. “I’ve been studying more often, and I’ve found that, perhaps, humanity would be better off accepting what they — _we_ — can’t fight. I don’t think you can control what you feel, and neither can I …”

 

A sudden warmth came over you. “Vision,” you said softly, ruefully, “you’re not human —”

 

“I am aware, but,” Vision said, and, at the loosening of your arms, he began to come closer. The light from the window caught on to him again, and you felt _deja vu_ of just the other day, watching him floating above, light casting on him, making him look so surreal, angelic, almost, “you know I can be just as efficient as any human. You remember the dream …”

 

You did, that’s why the two of you were in this awkward situation. But no matter how awkward, you shivered at the sudden feel of Vision’s hands tracing over your skin. His eyes were on you, seeing through you as only he could. He was close now, so close, and you ached for him.

 

He dipped his head down, and your hands came gently to his neck, feeling the heat that the sun had given his form on your skin. Vision’s lips came closer, and finally …

 

His lips were soft on yours. _Soft._ You were pleasantly surprised at this, because you had thought of something robot, steel-like, like the rest of his plated form.

 

You had thought of this. Why had you thought of this? Oh, why couldn’t you just be normal and _not_ want to do abnormal things with other people’s creations?

 

Vision’s hands on you were experimental and gentle, only applying pressure when he wanted — _needed_ — to know more about how you worked. His fingers traced the dents and bones of your back, and as he nipped you, you arched, and his fingers explored the dip of your lower back, exposed by your outfit.

 

You felt him as well, and he was so strong; you felt the power his form contained, and the strength of what he had been built with. Damn Ultron, you had wanted something horrible and monstrous and what had come through was a work of art. Something never seen before but in a completely lovely way.

 

You wrapped your arms around Vision’s neck, forcing him to add more into the kiss, and you nearly jumped when his hands came to your bottom. You smirked in the kiss. _Oh, Vision._

 

You gripped to the fabric of his cape as he Vision’s arms came around you, holding you firm to him, and … your feet began to leave the ground.

 

You were levitating. Levitating together.

 

 _Oh._ It was so easy to lose yourself in Vision, to abandon the world and its problems for this — for _him_ — but just as you were beginning to do just that, the lights began to flicker, along with the siren sounding.

 

Not a siren, _the_ siren, indicating trouble that had to be solved by the team.

 

You released Vision’s lips and looked at him. He set you down at once, never breaking his eyes off of you.

 

“We have to go,” he said, removing his hands from your waist.

 

“I know,” you said, a tad raspy.

 

Vision looked to the door, and then back to you with a hint of wistfulness.

 

“We can continue this tonight,” Vision said. “In a much more satisfactory fashion.”

 

“Yes,” you agreed, and began to head to the door along with him, side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series is so good and I'm so very proud of how it's turning out. I hope you guys are, as well!
> 
> Give me comments~ I so very love nice comments!


	3. What Other People's Things Do To Us

That damn Stark. 

 

Damn him and his creations — why did he have to be so brilliant? He paraded around with his genius mind and his electronic scions who were either saving the world or trying to burn it. How can one man be that incredible? How could one man’s things make you feel like this?

 

And the worse part was he wasn’t even around to yell at.

 

The last time you had engaged with him at all was before he drove off in his car fit for a billionaire such as himself, when his smirk was plastered on his face and the reason for it was completely unanswered for. 

 

“What’s with the face, Stark?” you had said, arms crossed and smiling in return. You had to admit you had missed him. Just a little. 

 

“Nothing,” he said, moving his hand up the wheel. “Take care of him, okay? He’s fragile.” 

 

“Take care of who? What are you —” 

 

“Bye!” shouted Tony, and with a foot on the ignition raced off with you behind him, out of ear shot and confused.

 

And a little bit angry, if you had to be entirely honest. 

 

How long had your feelings been so obvious? When had the shift been recognized in how you reacted to Vision? From fear and repulse to care, partnership, affection (deep, deep affection. Not love yet, maybe love soon, but not yet.), _lust?_

 

You went to the best person you could ever hope for in order to get some honesty. The one person who’s job it was to actually observe and adapt to other people's emotions, to catch on. 

 

Natasha. 

 

“It’s … been a little obvious, for a while,” she had said once you had gotten back.

 

When a sigh, you plopped beside her, and she handed you her bottle of water, to which you gladly took; was amazing how dehydrated one got when weeding out surviving Hydra threats.

 

“Not much, just …” Natasha trailed, bordering between hard truth and a care for your feelings, “just enough.” 

 

“Does the whole team know?” You said at last, fed up. “Does _everyone_ know but me?” 

 

“Thor doesn’t know.” 

 

“Thor doesn’t count.”

 

Natasha reeled back, surprised by your sourness. 

 

You shrugged. “Okay, he does count. But don’t gods have other things to worry about besides the crushes of humans?” 

 

“Fair enough,” Natasha said, grinning.

 

Now, your body was still thrumming with the heat of action that had taken place hours ago. That was how it was, usually; once you all returned you were too wound up to do much else but wait for your minds to calm down from the thrill. And so here, in your bed, you lie, looking to the window that revealed a endlessly darkened blue sky to you, waiting for some of that sky to be blocked by a caped figure …

 

You were nervous,  _ first date _ nervous, and it was ridiculous.

 

The nerves you had operated as a stimulator that kept you up for nearly two more hours before finally your system began to dull with the desire for sleep, and you let it come, figuring that Vision was waiting for you there, to open up and let him in.

 

Night melted away and in its place came morning, and he hadn’t come. 

 

 

***

 

You were entirely willing to storm up to Vision’s quarters once you woke and behave like a sexually-frustrated housewife demanding answers, but Natasha had found you just then, and you had followed her into the meeting room. 

 

“Okay, everyone, I’ve come to a conclusion,” Sam began, throwing up his hands. “I don’t like Hydra. I know you all may feel differently.”

 

You smiled, but it no way mitigated your displeasure.

 

“There’s only one more Hydra camps in Sokovia —” Steve began. 

 

“It’s too damn cold,” Sam interrupted. 

 

The others grinned. 

 

Steve gave him a look, and continued. “You know the drill: go in, take ‘em out, and knick-knacks that might look good on our shelves you bring back here to the Facility so Dr. Banner and Stark can take a good look.”

 

“And by knick-knacks,” said Natasha, “you mean —” 

 

“ _Alien_ knick-knacks.” 

 

“Does the whole team really have to go?” asked Clint. “Only two of us are really needed for this, especially if they’re of the super, flying-around variety.” 

 

At that, all heads went to Vision and you. 

 

_Oh, no,_ you thought. 

 

Vision seemed to sense this, and said, “Perhaps that wouldn’t be best —” 

 

“I think Barton’s right,” Steve said, crossing muscular arms. “The two of you have been on the most missions of this caliber besides Barton and Romanoff, you can get it done and we save some team members just in case anything else comes up.”

 

You avoided looking at Vision, who, you knew from peripheral view, was now gazing at you.

 

***

 

“Will you let me explain myself, Miss (Y/N)?” 

 

You didn’t really feel like talking as you fixed yourself to fly. You stood side by side with Vision now, the entire sky blue as the ocean beneath it, vast and completely open to the both of you.

 

“I know you don’t feel like talking —” 

 

You gave him a glare, the gentle wind knocking some strands of hair in your face. “You’re reading my thoughts? Stop.” 

 

“I would if you would only close yourself up to me.” 

 

That sentence sounded so _unbelievably_ inappropriate to you now, especially with last night’s disappointment — 

 

“I’m sorry if I said something rude —” 

 

“Stop!” 

 

“Then remove your thoughts from mine.” 

 

“Tell me how!” 

 

“I will not. Then I wouldn’t be able to read your thoughts.” 

 

Tired and angry, you gave a jump and shot into the sky like a bullet, swerving in the sky to head for your destination. 

 

Vision followed, and you wished you could say that he was distances away, but with the intimacy he had with your mind, he could have his lips pressed to yours again. 

 

It would have made no difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone has to stop me. I can't stop writing this series. 
> 
> It makes me so happy and I have no clue where it's going. The next chapter may be the last, or just the beginning of something huge and romantic (and horrible and not good for me because I'm meant to be in bed right now!)
> 
> Enjoy!


	4. The Warmth Of Sokovia

It was interesting, you thought, feeling the temperature around you shift with such blatancy.

 

You had dark premonitions that Vision would continue to badger you on and on about why you were upset, but, to your surprise, nothing of the sort happened; he was relatively silent unless he had some input on a different route to take or an incoming plane or jet heading toward the two of you.

 

You and Vision were far apart from the style of Thor and Tony — if they see us, they see us, and they might be better off seeing us because _who wouldn’t want to see us?_ — you preferred to avoid any wondering eyes if you could help it.

 

And so on and on you went, the air around you growing icier, colder as you made it to Sokovia.

 

The two of you avoided coming into contact with anything that was left of Novi Grad — Sokovia’s capital that had been ripped apart by Ultron’s horrific plans — and instead kept to the colder of the climate, where the clouds knitted together like a gray, chilly blanket.

 

“I’m not picking up any field disturbances that could indicate shields to keep us away,” Vision said at last, levitating in front of you.

 

“So no protection?” you said, surprised. “That doesn’t sound like our Hydra.”

 

“Not so fast,” Vision said, “give me just a second to recalculate …”

 

Vision turned his head slowly to the east, and you couldn’t help but take in the beauty of his profile — _why were you taking in the beauty of his profile you were supposed to be mad at him!_

 

At this, you realize Vision could still hear your thoughts — you hadn’t “closed” them off to him — and were waiting for him to turn to you, make some indication that he was aware of your inner struggle, but nothing.

 

Vision closed his eyes, raising a hand to test the air around him, feel for something more.

 

“It would be all right for us to progress forward, but be cautious, Miss (Y/N). I don’t like this.”

 

“Understood,” you said, and began to slowly fly forward.

 

“And thank you for the profile comment.”

 

**_Fuck._ **

 

***

Your mind raced as the pain that was spreading all over your leg began to take its toll on your endurance — it had all happened so fast: finding the hideout, crouching in the bushes, waiting, then thousands of bullets splashing down on the two of you like rain. Vision had grabbed on to you and allowed the bullets to reflect off of his body as he flew away with you. You had wiggled a hand from his grasp and thrown a energy blast at one of the many tanks that had come to fight, watching it go up in flames and engulf a small part of the forest in massive orange flames.

 

It felt so nice to break something. You had fallen away from Vision’s grip and enhanced your own shield against the blasts and bullets that tried to penetrate your shield and you. Six tanks, three taken out by you and the other three by Vision.

 

You had flown in by yourself, and the many agents had scattered at the sight of you. Orders had been barked in German to get them to stay (”Fucking cowards! Disgrace to Hydra!”) and when you had taken so many of them out and their leader and had found something hidden in a crate of pure steel (small but definitely alien; you had let it levitate instead of holding it, a _much_ safer option) a blast had gone off and before you knew it a soaring pain to your leg.

 

You groaned and spun around to see a gun held in a shaking hands. A Hydra agent down that had decided to do one last bit of damage before passing out.

 

Biting your tongue, you had fled with the crate beside you.

 

Things began to quiet as you left with Vision, leaving everything else behind.

 

Hours had passed huddled together in a cave before a Quinjet had come to take the two of you in, as Steve had promised, and you had boarded, nearly unconscious from the cold and the pain.

 

Now, you lied in your own cot, exhausted and once again too stimulated to sleep.

 

 _Can I come in?_ A sudden voice rang softly in your head, and you knew who it was.

 

_Yes._

 

A second or two, and then the door opened, and you saw Vision walk into your view.

 

“I really need to thank whoever made Quinjets fast enough to travel nearly all the way across the globe to help a girl with a shot leg,” you said, hoping to ease the tension that Vision’s arrival had brought. “It’s nice.”

 

“I am sorry,” Vision said ruefully.

 

“Oh,” you said, waving him off. “This isn’t your fault —”

 

“I’m not referring to this, though I wish I could have prevented this, too,” Vision said, a hand gently going to your bandaged leg. “I meant … for what happened between us. Or, rather, what _didn’t_ happen.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

You had nearly forgotten about that due to being thrown in the middle of chaos. Had forgotten that you were supposed to be upset with Vision due to the, ahem, _cancellation_ of plans.

 

“(Y/N), I was called in by Tony the night we were supposed to have met,” Vision began to explain in something like a whispered tone. He was so close now, and you blushed, lowering your head. “He wanted me to oversee some things pertaining to J.A.R.V.I.S. and I couldn’t escape him, no matter how many times I tried to tell him how imperative it was that I leave and continue with him some other time.”

 

“Oh,” you said, your blush increasing.

 

It was imperative. It was imperative to him that he and you were to …

 

Well, that was flattering. Really, really flattering.

 

“Oh, Vision,” you said, placing a hand on his own. “I’m sorry. I should have let you explain.”

 

“You should have, that’s correct.”

 

“And I should have realized something had gone wrong and saved you from Tony.”

 

“That is also correct, yes.”

 

You giggled, and it felt like weight had been lifted. From and you and the room’s tension … in fact, now, it seemed to be that the tension — once tight and humid — was now … _purring._

 

Vision’s hand had moved away from your leg, and had now crossed to your thigh. Your eyes were on his own, and they had such a rapt concentration on you that when you felt a small grasp of your thigh, you thought you might have imagined it.

 

Silence. Vision leaned forward to you, something in his face wistful for the closeness of your body. You leaned to meet him as well, and your eyes fluttered closed, the last remaining frost from your eyelashes a pleasant chilling contrast to the heat that had suddenly engulfed you.

 

Vision’s lips and yours met for a second time, and the novelty was still alive, causing a surge to go up, down, and around you.

 

Vision broke apart only to say, “I don’t know how I would have been able to live with myself had we not had resolved this and your injuries had been much more severe …”

 

You shushed him quietly, hoping in the process to also silence his guilty thoughts, and pressed against his mouth again.

 

Vision’s tongue brushed against your own, and you were pleased to know that it felt like a normal, human tongue despite its owner. More surges, your body growing hot with each stroke and new sensation.

 

Vision held you to him, both hands pressing against your sides as you arched and gently gyrated into him.

 

With a sigh, Vision broke the kiss for a second time.

 

“Sleep, (Y/N),” he commanded softly. “I will meet you there this time, I promise.”

 

“How can you tell me to do that now?” you whined, mewling for more closeness.

 

“I know,” rasped Vision. “I should have exhibited more control, but you must sleep, so we can experience this to its full potential …”

 

Too many big words for you. You leaned back, hazy with lust, and Vision rested you down on the pillows. You felt his hands leave you and you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to take you.

 

The thrums inside you subsided quicker than you thought they would, and soon you were asleep, waiting.

 

“I will make it up to you, (Y/N),” Vision whispered. Closing his eyes beside you and entering your mind.

 

“ _I promise._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! Do you see how I made a reference to my bruce fic? Rebirth? I'm a genius!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter, all sexual tension will be resolved!!


	5. Occupied Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have lived and your memories are proof of that. I’ve hardly started to see anything at all. Death and war and sacrifices huge beyond comprehension … all those things I understand. But the loneliness of a child? The joy of belonging? Love on an everyday basis? All those things I’ve yet to learn.”

“(Y/N) …”

 

All was quiet at first. You sat in the sky, resting in a field of purplish-gray clouds. Cool was the air, but comfortably so, the kind of cool one wanted to snuggle in.

 

But you want to save the most extreme of your snuggle urges for who was coming, and so you waited.

 

And that waited was not in vain, because Vision had no conception of “show up to the party late and be cool” and, also, because he wanted to wait for this no more than you did.

 

“(Y/N),” came the soft uttering of your name from his lips.

 

Vision made no effort in being beautiful. He simply was. He rose from the clouds, his cape undulated, the sound of it rippling elevating the calm.

 

The gem glittered hot, yellow as the sun. Vision settled on nothing, but this was a dream; and in it the clouds could support him, support the both of you.

 

You gave him your hand and he rose to the occasion, his fingers both human and not but, like he said, just enough. They grasped yours and you gently propelled him forward, catching him by the shoulder as he felt onto you.

 

Vision’s features were slightly playful, even as they contorted into a sort of feigned confusion. “You know what’s odd, Miss (Y/N)?”

 

“What?” you said, unable to resist a smile as you traced the lanes of Vision’s metal plates.

 

“Only seconds have transpired, and even so, I missed you wildly.”

 

“Oh, did you?”

 

Vision’s features relaxed, eyes half-lidded. “Yes,” he said, “I did.”

 

You allowed yourself to fall back, and Vision’s hands came to your back to grace you. Your legs entwined with his. Your nails gently dragged over the synthetics of Vision’s uniform, and he closed his eyes to the sensation, his head turning to your shoulder.

 

His hand came up to cup the side of your face, and you kissed the edge of his palm. It slid down to your neck, fingers tickling your throat, before cascading to the lane of your breasts, and your pulse quickened at the sound of a zipper descending …

 

You held Vision close, your eyes half lidded and away from him — the notion of meeting his gaze was too intense for you to bear, so you kept eyes on the clouds flowing by, their travel hardly visible over the dream sky.

 

And then, something happened — Vision’s cape came apart and began to drift away.

 

Vision stopped to look himself, and then back to you — who was wide-eyed.

 

Because Vision’s synthetics and metal plates, his fibers and cuffs were … _coming away_. They were chipping off like weak pieces of skin that you knew they weren’t — but they were peeling from Vision’s form like they were just that.

 

The synthetics were melting away, the metal plates flipping in the air as they descended, falling too far to be seen any longer.

 

And what they left in their wake was skin. Human skin.

 

Vision examined his hands, and you came to hold them with your own. His fingers grasped to your own, the sensation — the _fullness_ of it, not just a ghostly ache of what pleasure should be — caused his eyes to flutter.

 

“I like dreams,” You said breathlessly. “I really do.”

 

You put an arm on Vision’s neck and pressed him down to you, lips already moving before his met yours.

 

Electric, _alive._ Unlike the others kisses you had shared, with the faint feel. This was all force, all the drive that it should be. Vision let out a soft sound at the feel of it — of it all — and came to wrap an arm around you, tight as a vice now. His other hand worked on the rest of your zipper, pulling it all the way away, and beneath it he found no other layers between himself and your skin.

 

Your hands felt the flesh of Vision’s upper thighs as you two scrambled in a race — _off off off, close close closer close oh please_ — but then you remembered: a dream. All a dream. And with a blink you felt the false air buffet around you, all your skin now exposed.

 

Your tongue breached over the barriers of Vision’s lips and came to claim his own — another bolt of electricity, and you were beginning to worry that this might all be too much for Vision’s new found system, no longer dulled by the restrictions he lived with in waking life.

 

Thoughts came and went in the scrambling, the kisses, the caresses, the slight pain that was dispelled by larger pleasure. It all sounded like it came from whispers in a cave, traveling across rocks and hollowed ends; far but everywhere.

 

Vision felt your worry like the pierce of a knife —

 

_Vision, are you —_

 

_Fine, (Y/N) … fine …_

 

It didn’t sound faint. It sounded, to you, like Vision was just as occupied with you as you him; no time for thought games, no time for thoughts or thinking — so tired, so tired of thinking — and it was exciting, this new flesh, this new desire for feeling and new desire to be felt.

 

You smiled in the kiss, nipping at Vision’s lower lip. You were reward with a nip in return — _lecherous android,_ you thought with glee.

 

You placed hands on Vision’s shoulders and pushed, signaling for him to move to the side, and you replaced him as the one on top.

 

His chest was silky, rippled with soft muscle you ached to explore. You could feel the soft bump of pectorals and faint presence of abdominal plains. Oh, so good against your hand. Your fingers teased and Vision actually recoiled, a smile coming to his face.

 

 _Oh, no, don’t tell me — you’re_ ticklish?

 

_Don’t mock me, Miss (Y/N)._

 

_I wouldn’t think of it …_

 

But then you dragged your nails softly against his sides, and Vision jumped, pulling away with a soft like a strangled laugh.

 

 _You’re a villainess,_ came Vision’s voice. _I shall report you to our teammates immediately after we are through._

 

Vision scooped you up to his side, and your laughter was a live thing — bright and beautiful.

 

_And to think I never would have had this luxury had I not invaded your mental privacy —_

 

_I knew you were going to find a way to justify your badness!_

 

_But did I not help you come to terms with your repressed affection?_

 

_It was still bad, Vision!_

 

_What is the saying? Oh yes: alls well that ends well._

 

_You sicken me._

 

At that, Vision rose his head and buried it in your neck, teeth nipping at your earlobe.

 

_Somehow, I find that doubtful._

 

Vision’s tongue flicked at the back of your lobe, and you gave a moan.

 

_How do you know to do that?_

 

_I might have done research …_

 

You giggled. Of course he did, why were you the least bit surprised?

 

He was so beautiful; his eyes were on you, bright and dark liquid green. Your hand continued to trace over his abdominal — before an idea came to you, exciting you, filling you like water did a bottle, and you aimed lower.

 

Lower, _much_ lower, until —

 

Vision’s breath caught, no longer heating the skin of your neck, igniting goosebumps from you. His eyes darted slightly.

 

Smiling, you grasped him, and Vision held on to you. You felt his uncertainty like it came from you — taut, worried.

 

You grasped a little harder, his flesh warm against your palm, and pumped.

 

Aloud. “(Y/N) …”

 

There would never be anything as erotic as that whisper. You wanted it on repeat, forever. To summon it whenever you fancied.

 

And what Vision felt, you felt; you could feel his pleasure, his indecision, his desire to fall into this feeling — new and vibrant and so good — but you felt his refusal before it came in the form of his hand stopping yours.

 

_I want to feel you, Miss (Y/N) …_

 

Vision came over you. You lied back as Vision’s hands gave you a similar treatment; they scanned over your breasts, causing your nipples to come alive by the sudden feel of his padded, newly fleshed finger pads tracing the sensitive skin. You blushed, realizing just how exposed you were to him — and so entirely, too. All this new flesh, all these new experiences …

 

His hands came to the sides of your stomach — _oh god, don’t tickle me._ Too late, Vision’s fingers teased your sides and you came apart in more giggles. Vision smiled and went on.

 

Your giggles met their end when Vision’s fingers found your entrance, his thumb grazed against your clit and you arched forward.

 

Vision cupped your outer majora — probably a note taken from research, you bet — and began to … _massage_ you. Slowly at first, downloading the information you gave him from your hitched breaths, your movements. He kept note of it all and stored it all somewhere you had no clue of for future reference — there was going to be a future in this, you smiled.

 

Vision began to pick up his speed, his other hand coming to roll against your clit. Your breath now carried a moan or a mumbled “yes” with it with every other passing second.

 

You felt yourself tightening, ready for your climax to arrive, to be consumed by it, when Vision stopped.

 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but softened when you saw that his expression held incredulity.

 

_It … is my understanding that the concept of virginity is often a sensitive one?_

 

You were struck. Wide-eyed.

 

_How do you know? I never —_

 

_Am I correct? Is it …a sensitive topic for you?_

 

You wanted very much to know how he knew, but you thought better to ask; he had probably noticed some hesitance from you, or had simply guessed and your answer had given him confirmation.

 

You felt Vision’s fingers inch toward your entrance, and your attention snapped back to him.

 

_Perhaps I should prepare you?_

 

You nodded.

 

And, tentatively, Vision’s fingers slipped in, and you gave a gasp.

 

It was a pathetic replacement for what you really, really wanted, but it was good, better; it would hold you for now.

 

Vision was experimenting with you, adding and subtracting fingers, brushing against you one fashion or another, testing, examining what worked best on your poor bundles. His other hand went to work entertaining your clitoris, undeterred by your shifting, the winds that caught on to your moans and seemed to send them everywhere.

 

This was a different feel — Vision felt himself twitch under your frantic movements as your pleasure stocked onto itself, the vocalization of your bliss. He was reacting to you, and it was as fascinating as it was thrilling.

 

Vision watched you lose you inhibitions as your orgasm came to claim you, and you smoothed your legs together, squeezing Vision’s hand in between. He didn’t attempt to break it free from your thighs — or do anything; his eyes were on you.

 

Good, could you be more stunning? He knew physical beauty was a ruse, a lie, a manipulation that eventually waned with time, but he couldn’t help it; you had so _much_ of it. And he felt a sort of vindictive pleasure out of knowing he solely got to witness you like he was, so breathless, so _high._

 

And pride. He felt that, too.

 

You relaxed, your thighs permitting Vision’s hand to slide away.

 

“Amazing,” you breathed like a prayer, closing your eyes and feeling the feral beatings of your heart.

 

“Yes,” Vision said, soft.

 

His hands began to smooth up your legs, holding on to your hips and gently tugging you forward to him. He lowered himself on to you. Your head went to his shoulder.

 

Ready. Oh, so ready.

 

But Vision knew that your body wasn’t. Not quite. Your mind? Yes, oh, god, were you ready for it. But you needed time to adjust from your last climax. He knew that it wouldn’t last, wouldn’t serve for you to be tired and worn at the height of excitement.

 

So he kissed you — your shoulders and your hair, eyes when your eyelids covered them, eyebrows and upper cheek, chin and then your lips.

 

You curved your leg above his, hands smoothing over the planes of his back. You got an idea, and you closed your eyes, pressed your head against Vision’s, and —

 

_— you were on a cliff, smiling. You never thought you’d be able to fly but you did it —_

 

_— you were on the side of the sidewalk, cars streaming by, your hands together and shaking. You were going to die. You were never going to find anyone to take you in. It was over, sorrow, sorrow, hopeless and lonely and scared —_

 

_— Tony was escorting you to his care, your eyes bright with happy disbelief. He was traipsing along with ease, humming, having no clue of what this meant to you. He was giving you a home. You were going to have a **home** — _

 

_— You were flying away from danger. Gunshots, bombs igniting. Potential death and injury, always, but so full, so happy. You had a place. Finally, the world had opened its crevices and had offered one to you, to make home —_

 

Vision’s eyes darted as you showed him slide show after slide show of your life. Poignant, and much more vibrant than they would have been if not for his gift.

 

“(Y/N) …” he whispered, the final remnants of the joy from your flashbacks beginning to ebb away.

 

“I’m not pure, Vision,” You said. “I’m horrible sometimes, and I can be selfish and I’m still … I’m still really, really angry about so many things that didn’t go right, that no one made right for me. And I know I shouldn’t be any of those things, but I can’t help it. I am —”

 

Vision silenced you, pressing his lips to yours. He pecked you again, softly, before saying, “You have lived, (Y/N). You have lived and your memories are proof of that. I’ve hardly started to see anything at all. Death and war  and sacrifices huge beyond comprehension … all those things I understand. But the loneliness of a child? The joy of belonging? Love on an everyday basis? All those things I’ve yet to learn.”

 

His hand smoothed your hair back, the dark liquid of his eyes rimmed with mechanics, gaze intense.

 

“Teach me,” he said. “Teach me all those things, (Y/N), for I have no right to call myself a savior and advocate of life if I myself haven’t lived.”

 

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And you blinked it away. “Yes,” You said. “I will.”

 

You felt Vision nearing your entrance. His eyes trained on you, waiting.

 

You nodded.

 

Vision moved forward, and finally met with you. You gave a breathy moan, the pleasure mingling with the grand stings of pain. You tensed, then remembered that would make things worse and tried to fight the urge.

 

Vision submerged entirely in you, holding you close, so close you were not sure if you would be able to breathe properly. But you couldn’t find it in you to care; you held fast to Vision as he made his first experimental thrust.

 

Pleasure and pain but pleasure ran through you as he made his second thrust, emitting a soft grunt. The clouds that held you two were pulling apart, vanishing slowly to leave only sky holding you afloat against all reason. You curled your toes when more thrusts came, Vision’s hands weaving their way up and down your sides to your breasts and back against, lips tasting your own again.

 

So many hands, so much teeth and breath and thrust all thrown into one. You couldn’t distinguish up from down and you weren’t bothered by it. Vision took all of you, conquering all of your senses. You writhed underneath him as the thrusts became more aggressive.

 

You could sense Vision losing the battle for his coherency, his actions and thoughts becoming more rabid, frantic and hurried and wrapped up in you and you loved it, encouraged it with a tingling bite to his neck.

 

_(Y/N) … never … never anything like this —_

 

_Vision …_

 

Vision took your hand and rose it over your head, grasping it firm. You curled your fingers against his, the intimacy becoming too much. Minds and bodies, all so close and so firm to each other. You turned away, feeling the flush come to you —

 

And saw … you saw the rays of sun, streaming into the sky. The sun was coming up. What did that mean?

 

A particularly delicious thrust, with Vision’s abdomen brushing close to your clit, and you found you couldn’t give a damn about some yellow ball doing its own thing. You reached down to rub at your clit, the nub desperate for some attention — some friction— and wrapped the other arm around Vision.

 

His lips moved away from you to peck at your neck, downward to your collarbone and to the ripe skin of your breasts while still trying to remain his hold on you. God, why couldn’t you be closer? Be a part of him like he desired to be with you? It was unfair on all accounts.

 

He knocked your hand out of the way of your clit and took up the duty himself. Surprised by his aggression, you smiled softly — a smile that grew only wider when you felt the arrival of climax, just there …

 

The thrusts, the rubbing of your clit. Oh, all too much. You tightened your legs against Vision’s sides, as you felt Vision’s pleasure and your own topple on top of each other, stacking. You felt yourself filled to the brim, your senses overwhelming, as your orgasm possessed you.

 

It multiplied as Vision came to his own climax, and you weren’t sure that the two of you would survive this, so much all at once — _fingers and hair and skin and memories and sweat and happiness and lust and and and —_

 

Silence besides huffed breaths, giving no truth to the chaos that was still continuing on in the inner worlds you two now shared. Vision lowered his head on your shoulder.

 

And you were glad that the first thing that got you two talking again was —

 

_I certainly wished I had been informed it would be like that._

 

You laughed, the sun’s rays unrivaled by your smile.

 

_I think we were doomed from the start, Vision._

 

_I suppose so …_

 

The sun was out fully now, and cool wind chilled your sweaty bodies.

 

_I don’t want to go back._

 

 _Nor I,_ Vision said. _Especially since awaiting me is my … other form._

 

A tinge of sadness. That was right — what was back home for Vision was his android body, with its limits and its dulled senses. He wouldn’t be able to feel anything as vibrantly as now, and you knew it.

 

Damn Stark. Why couldn’t he had done more?

 

But then again … Vision was an accomplishment beyond reasoning. You wanted to blame Stark, and Ultron, and Cho, and even Thor. Everyone who had helped Vision come into being — but you couldn’t.

 

What was waiting for him in the physical world was sublime. Spectacular and beautiful, even if it was not perfect.

 

 _Who knows?_ You said. _Maybe one day …_

 

 _Yes,_ Vision said. _Maybe one day …_

 

You wouldn’t understand how long you two had stayed there, in the mental world you had created to be your shed. Maybe hours, minutes. Maybe until the sun had gone again and left the world darkened and invited the stars. You didn’t know. What was time, anyway?

 

All you did remember is this blackening, until there was nothing you could see with your own eyes. And all you could feel was the warm of Vision beside you.

 

***

 

Everything was yanked away with a sudden jerk of the helicarrier, and you fell awake, holding sides of the bed.

 

It took you only a second to understand — you had stopped, and this was the real world again.

 

“Vision —”

 

You called for him and stopped when you saw Vision beside you, in the same spot where you had left him. His head was to the side.

 

“I believe it’s time we leave,” he said. “The others will want our report on what transpired in Sokovia.”

 

He reached for your hand, and you took his fully. You rose from bed, slowly, still simply adjusting to the physicality of everything. Had it always been like this?

 

You straightened yourself out — there was not a trace of Vision on you, nothing from the other world had made it into this one. It bothered you; as if none of it had happened, and that was this world’s way of being a supreme douchebag in making you realize it.

 

You shrugged it off. It did happen, it did. Stupid world.

 

 _You’d be useless if you didn’t have puppies and kittens, you know,_ You thought.

 

_Excuse me?_

 

You turned. Vision was looking at you, a small smile, raised eyebrow. _What?_

 

You burst out in laughter. “Nothing,” you said between giggles, opening the door.

 

Vision followed you out into the sunlight — the real, authentic sunlight. You struggled to get your eyes to adjust to it, its heat and its brightness.

 

 _You have nothing on the other one,_ You thought.

 

And you waited for Vision’s reply, knowing how he could never pass up on an opportunity to converse with you through thoughts. The temptation would be too great, especially when he knew it threw you off guard so often.

 

You weren’t disappointed —

 

_I couldn’t agree more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. I hope you all loved it. I've been trying to make this perfect for over a month now, not posting until I felt it was just right, which is why it's been at least two and a half months since anything! Haha! 
> 
> I had so much fun with this story, and I really hope I did Vision justice, that you enjoyed my characterization of him. It might be a little unrealistic in places (in fact, all of this could be for naught because who can say Vision even has an interest in sex? Being an android and all ... I might have made him too human, made his desires to sentimental?)
> 
> But I hope you really loved it, I did. 
> 
> Won't be the last time I write for Vision, either! So don't think this is some sort of vision-writing eulogy or something, I'm not going anywhere! Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I love Vision soo much I had to write something for him. I don't know if I'll continue this but I have a faint fragment of what the next chapter thingy could be so hang tight!
> 
> (also I know I'm sure I got his powers wrong don't kill me I just needed to get this out okay? okay)
> 
> I'm so jealous of Wanda; VISION SHOULD BE MINE.
> 
> ~M


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